


A Short Reprieve

by TheNightComesDown



Series: The Pacific - Love Heals [5]
Category: The Pacific (TV)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Mild Language, Okinawa, World War II
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-20
Updated: 2018-12-20
Packaged: 2019-09-23 10:23:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17078540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheNightComesDown/pseuds/TheNightComesDown
Summary: After a tiring day of fighting on Okinawa, Eugene "Sledgehammer" Sledge is keeping watch while his mortar mate, Merriell "Snafu" Shelton, sleeps.





	A Short Reprieve

Warm rain pelted down on the fatigued members of Company K, who were camped for the night in muddy foxholes. One would think that after the scorching, humid heat of Peleliu, the rain in Okinawa would bring relief – but the only thing worse than being slick with sweat was walking through shin-deep mud day after day. The rain poured into the holes the men had dug for cover, leaving them no choice but to sit in dirty water all night. The sound of enemy gunfire rang out every so often, keeping PFC Eugene Sledge alert as he began his 4-hour watch. His mortar partner, PFC Snafu Shelton, sat quietly beside him, wrapped in a poncho and leaned against the slippery wall of the foxhole. Their mortar was set up between them, as well as a box of live ammunition tucked beneath a scavenged poncho.  


Using his helmet for cover, Sledge slipped a cigarette into his mouth and lit it. As he smoked, he examined the metal lighter Gunny Haney had given him on Peleliu. He carried it in his breast pocket, along with his beloved New Testament. Although Marines in combat had little by way of personal effects, Sledge kept these as both a memory of the past, and a reminder of his hope for the future, beyond the Pacific. He tucked away the lighter and leaned back against the wall of the foxhole. A shell exploded against rock somewhere in the distance, drawing him out of his thoughts. He raised his helmeted head out of the hole to watch for movement, and saw nothing but sheets of rain and the glow of a cigarette in the hole beside his own. 

Sledge turned towards Snafu. A veteran of Cape Gloucester, Snafu rested as rain dripped from the rim of his helmet onto his face. On Peleliu, Sledge had been amazed by the man’s uncanny ability to sleep even as bullets whizzed overhead.  


“The trick,” Snafu had advised, “is to sleep whenever the Japs ain’t firin’ directly at you. You never know when you’re gonna get another chance.” Although it was sound advice, Sledge still couldn’t believe that Snafu could sleep through mortar blasts, but wake at a moment’s notice when his name was called. As he watched the man sleep, Sledge noticed a large clump of mud on Snafu’s jaw. Without thinking, he reached over and brushed the mud away with the side of his hand. Snafu’s green eyes snapped open immediately, and he caught Sledge’s wrist as he pulled away. 

“What the fuck you doin’, Sledgehammer?” Snafu growled, gripping Sledge’s wrist tighter as he tried to pull away.  


“Shove off, Snafu,” Sledge said quietly. “I was just gettin’ some mud off your face so it won’t slide into your poncho.” Snafu released his hold on Sledge, grimacing as he shifted himself into a more comfortable position. Sledge massaged his wrist gingerly. He shot a dirty look over to Snafu, who was watching him carefully. “I was just tryin’ to help, that’s all,” Sledge frowned.  


“Ain’t nobody around that can help me,” Snafu drawled. “Not even God can get me outta this shithole.” Removing his helmet and tipping it upside down, Snafu collected a few inches of rainwater and used it to mud and grime from his face. It was impossible to get anywhere close to clean, but washing one’s face was the best a man could hope for in the field. A small cut ran above his eyebrow, and he winced as he attempted to rub crusted blood from the wound.  


“You’ll make it bleed again if you keep at it like that,” Sledge warned him. “If it gets infected and we’re out here much longer, you’ll be fucked.” Snafu scowled at him, but stopped scrubbing the cut. Instead he investigated his fingernails, which had a dark layer of crusted mud caked beneath them. There was no use in cleaning them, because the moment they needed to scramble out of their foxhole, they would be dirty again. For a group that insisted on cleanliness and order, the Marine Corp had some of the filthiest troops on the field. The last decent wash Sledge could remember was during a downpour on Pavuvu, which had ended so fast that he stood naked on the walkway, still covered in suds.  


As the rain began to subside, Sledge pulled out his Bible and a small pencil he kept tucked in his pocket. He flipped to a page marked with tallies, and added three more lines to the ever-growing number already on the page. The top right corner of the page said _Okinawa _; he was running out of room to mark the number of men they had lost from Company K at this point. He flipped to another page, and scratched out a note about the events of the previous day. As he glanced to his left, he noticed Snafu eying him watchfully.  
__

__“Watcha writin’, Sledge?” Snafu asked sarcastically. “Letter to some broad in Mobile?” Sledge rolled his eyes and sighed.  
_ _

__“You think I have any women to write to, Snafu?” he asked.  
_ _

__“Other than your mama, you mean?” Snafu smirked. Sledge reached out and rapped his knuckles against Snafu’s helmet, frowning with mock annoyance.  
_ _

__“My brother wrote all about the nurses he was meeting in France in his last letter,” Sledge said, sighing. “I’m not sure I’ve seen a single pretty girl in the Pacific.” He met Snafu’s gaze and shrugged. “All there is to see out here is dead Japs and Kathy’s ugly mug.” Snafu snickered quietly. As he opened his mouth to speak again, Sledge heard rustling leaves nearby. His gaze snapped up to the tree line, and he held a hand out in warning to Snafu, urging him to be quiet. Snafu’s rifle was at the ready almost immediately. The two men eyed the trees warily, waiting for a Japanese soldier to come creeping out of the thick foliage. After what felt like ages, a pheasant flew out from where it had been hiding, to the relief of both men.  
_ _

__“These fuckin’ birds sure want to get shot at,” Snafu remarked, setting his rifle across his legs. “Might taste better than C rations.” Sledge cracked a smile, but continued to watch the pheasant as it picked at the ground in search of worms. Snafu slipped his hands under his poncho and pulled out a squished pack of cigarettes. He placed one in his mouth and passed the pack over to Sledge, who accepted. Snafu cursed under his breath as he inspected a soggy matchbook. After a moment, he crawled around the mortar, over Sledge’s extended legs, and plopped himself down shoulder to shoulder with his mortar partner.  
_ _

__“Mind if I use your fancy lighter, Sledgehammer?” he asked. Sledge passed him the lighter, and Snafu cupped his hand around its flame as he lit his cigarette. As he smoked, he ran his thumb over the symbol on the metal case: a red number one on a blue diamond, the insignia of the 1st Marine division. He pressed the lighter back into Sledge’s hand, placed his helmet beside himself, and leaned his head against the Sledge’s shoulder. They watched the pheasant in silence, enjoying the temporary reprieve from shelling, and the relief that nicotine brought. Without saying a word, Sledge offered his hand to Snafu, resting it palm-up on the man’s leg. With a sigh, Snafu grasped Sledge’s hand tightly._ _

__“Are you scared, Sledge?” Snafu asked, tracing the side of Sledge’s hand with his thumb.  
_ _

__“Shitless,” Sledge responded. “Never really gets better.” Snafu nodded, and leaned more heavily onto Sledge’s shoulder. His eyelids felt heavy, but he wanted to see how long the green-feathered bird would spend on the ground, surrounded by watchful men and wet corpses.  
_ _

__Every time he blinked, Snafu saw blood mixed with watery mud; he dreamed about it, too. Sledge’s presence was reassuring, but it didn’t keep the sounds of screaming men and explosions from playing over and over in his head. He knew Sledge dreamt of the same things, as did every other man in their company. The fear was constant, and wouldn’t abate unless they somehow won this battle, and however many they would have to fight after it.  
_ _

__“Merriell?” Sledge murmured Snafu’s name softly, rousing him from his thoughts.  
_ _

__“Hmm?” Snafu mumbled, lifting his head to meet Sledge’s dark eyes. Sledge’s stubbled chin brushed against the cut on his forehead as he looked up, but he ignored the sting.  
_ _

__“You can have a rest now,” Sledge said, squeezing Snafu’s hand tightly. “I’ve got a few hours left on my watch.” Snafu nodded sleepily, his concern for his own safety dwindling as fatigue overtook him.  
_ _

__“You’ll wake me up when it’s my watch, or if somethin’ happens?” Snafu asked, yawning. Sledge shifted his weight as to allow Snafu to lean more heavily against him.  
_ _

__“I always do,” Sledge replied. Snafu fell into an uneasy sleep, twitching every now and again as his mind replayed its interpretation of recent events. Sledge held himself perfectly still in an attempt to avoid waking Snafu. Everyone in the company needed a decent sleep, and although that was impossible to find at the bottom of a wet, mud-filled hole, Sledge kept watch in silence so that Snafu might get an hour’s rest.  
_ _


End file.
